Candlelight and questionable underwear
by thegoffietwerb
Summary: Kink Meme prompt - kink meme fill for - Dis/Dwalin, pegging "Meme, I'm a girl with simple needs". I tried to write some graphic pornage. So have some ridiculous pornage attempt.


_**kink meme fill for - Dis/Dwalin, pegging "Meme, I'm a girl with simple needs"**_

_I tried to write some graphic pornage. I could not. So have some ridiculous pornage attempt._

_I love Dwalin/Dis. They need more (less angsty) love. _

He was beginning to regret agreeing to this. He didn't quite like the rather manic glint in her eyes as she laced up the corset. But this was tit for tat he supposed, and by Mahal did she deserve a lot of tat for what she had given him. Didn't stop him being nervous though. He had survived Azanulbizar, fought in campaigns, he had once headbutted a foe to death. Headbutted. He could get through this. He would not be defeated by…well…. That.  
Dis finished pulling the laces and looked up at his face. Dwalin was rather pale. "If you do not want to do this, then it does not have to happen."  
He met her eyes, straightened up and pulled down his trews , "Du bekar".  
Dis just rolled her eyes.

All she'd done was ask. He didn't have to say yes. He had nothing to prove. But she had asked him and who was he to say no to her? His dark and handsome widow. He would give her anything. Mithril, gold from a dragon's hoard, his head on a silver platter if it pleased her. But no. She had asked for this. He had looked at her. Then at the polished wooden cock in her hand. Then at her face again. Then back at the offending implement. "Fine, but if that splinters I will eat your sons." "Deal."

And now here they were. Ready to do the deed as it were. Bathed in the warm glow of lamplight in the Princess's bedroom.  
She and her soldier lover, both in various states of undress. He sat upon the bed, removing his boots and underclothes; watching her. Dis was nude apart from a short dark blue corset that stopped below her breasts and had, at the junction of her thighs, slot in which to place the wooden cock (which he now swore was larger that before) and straps that kept it in all in place. By Mahal the woman was something to behold. She caught his eye and grinned at him, and the big warrior blushed, suddenly felt like a wee dwarrow of 60 again. "Lass, y' look beautiful"  
It was her turn to blush. He was not a poet, so the simple things he said always meant so much to her. She laughed, attaching the dildo. "Even with this?" "If I squint I cannae see it as much."

"Get on your hands and knees." She was on the bed next to him, long black hair loose and over her shoulders.  
Dwalin huffed. "I dinnae ken how I feel about this."  
"Oh shut up you big lass." She laughed, smacking him round the head with a rather oily hand. She did miss the mohawk. She kissed him soundly, one hand on his beard and the snaking down to grip his shaft and was rewarded with a low strangled noise.  
"Now turn around" she growled as she broke the kiss. He complied. He grumbled "I cannae see you."  
"You don't trust me?"  
"Not with that."  
"You're a wise wise man." She let out a much put upon sigh as she adjusted the soft leather straps, leaning over him. He growled again as she planted soft kisses down his neck and back. "Just get on with it already"  
"That's fighting talk. Can't anyway." She chuckled in his ear, mimicking his harsh tones "You're neewhere near ready fer me lass." He looked around at her, face a picture of disgust. "That is not funny in the slightest."  
The beads in her hair and beard glistened in the lamp light as she looked down at him eyes bright, "Auch, shut yer face." she teased and she pushed his head down and used the other hand to steady his hips. Even after the years of hardship, the flight from Erebor, its was the warm and dark moments like this with her loyal Dwalin that truly made her feel like a Queen, Princess, Goddess – whatever. She ruled their little universe from above or below him.

Hands on him, tracing the scars and cords of his muscles. Hands now coated in the slightly cool thick oil that were now working their way down and - "ooff! Steady!"  
"Hush, you've never complained of this before."  
"That's 'cause you've never had another agenda behind i-eeeeesh!"  
"I cannot just go ploughing in! Unless you want to end up at a healers!" There was more low grumbling which stopped and hitched in his throat when she reached around to wrap her hands around his cock; moving slowly until he was squirming beneath her.  
"Fer Mahal's sake, Dis!" He was quicker to prepare than she anticipated; she paused, adding more oil to the shaft between her own legs. She gave his intact ear a quick bite and squeezed him with a little more firmness. "Are you sure?"  
"Ah-aye! Wait, Dis." She stopped as she aligned herself with him. "Dwalin?"  
His voice was quiet and choked when he spoke. "Be gentle with m-oooooffffff-MAHAL WEPT!"  
"That's just the tip!"  
"Just tell me when its over." She snorted, giving him a few moments to adjust then rolled her hips to push in deeper. She didn't know whether the noises he was making made her want to laugh or cry or cum. For being the strong silent type he sure was vocal once he got going. She was slow at first, accommodating. Loving. But soon she was pushing his head down again and gripping his hips tighter.  
Dwalin felt his face being pushed further into the mattress, but in all honestly, what was going on with his face was last on the list of things he was paying attention to. He was much more focused on what was going on at the other end. It was….less unpleasant than he had expected. And by the Makers, the noises the woman was making. And here he was, bodyguard of the King, being stoutly buggered by his highnesses little sister.  
With a particularly hard thrust the warrior let out a disturbingly high pitched squeak and the princess above him let out a gusty laugh and fell forward to bite the back of his neck. "Ack! Woman!" The dark haired princess, usually so dour and serious to the outside world giggled like a young girl and grasped his shoulders. "Turn around Dwalin!"  
Before he could react she heaved his shoulder and tried to spin him onto his back. Upon later reflection, Dis figured that she probably should have pulled out first.

Thorin stopped hammering a sword in his forge about half a mile away, paused and listened intently. He turned to a rather sooty nephew (he could never tell which was which when they were covered in so much dirt). "Did you just hear a scream?"

"That had better be whiskey." "Tea….with whiskey." Dis passed him a cup, an apologetic look on her face. She leant on the rim of the bathtub he sat in glowering. Face still very pale. "I said I was sorry… do you want me to fetch Oin?"  
The look he gave her told her no. And that once he could walk without swearing, he really would eat her sons.

~fin~

**_crawls away and dies_**


End file.
